


Chilled

by thebearking



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutant Reader, Other, POV Second Person, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Protective Bucky Barnes, Pyrokinetic Reader, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8981218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebearking/pseuds/thebearking
Summary: You see someone at the market who resembles an abuser from your past.





	

**Author's Note:**

> gender-neutral reader who is a pyrokinetic superhero. trigger warnings for mentions of abuse and description of mild panic attack.

You were out at the market with Bucky when you saw _him_.

He was in the next aisle over, riffling through some mangoes, and your mouth fell open, your breath falling through your parted lips and hovering in the icy air in a puff of pale mist. You had turned around to get Bucky’s attention, and instead you were faced with a sight you thought you’d never see again. His hair, his build, even his damn clothes—the familiar features coupled with the fact that Bucky wasn’t nearby was too much for you and you stood frozen, clutching the bag of fruit so tightly that your knuckles were white and your hands were trembling. You could hear your pulse pounding in your ears as well as the plum vendor calling for you in a concerned voice, and for the first time in forever, your blood ran cold. You felt chilled all over, like you had lost your internal flame, your wide, terrified eyes fixated on that one man, testing the mangoes in his hand, tenderly feeling for squishy spots that might hint at a rotten core.

That was your first hint that it wasn’t him. He would never handle anything or anyone so gently. The next second he raised his head to address the mango vendor and you saw this man’s eyes were a different color, and his entire facial structure was different. You clamped your mouth shut and sighed through your nose in relief, closing your eyes as you fought to slow your breathing. In, out. In, out. You were not about to hyperventilate in the middle of the market. You knew how unforgiving the press could be, and even with your coat and scarf, you were still recognizable. You silently applauded yourself for not bursting into flame. Still, you’d rather _that_  happen than have your blood run cold like that ever again.

“Sorry I ran off, doll, I saw the peaches you needed. If you’re ready to go, let’s—hey, what’s wrong?”

You sighed again. Bucky was there. He was in front of you now, and when you opened your eyes, you saw him, his brow furrowed with worry. You reached out to wrap your arms around his middle, holding him against you, breathing in his familiar, woodsy scent. His smell alone was nearly enough to erase the image of _him_ from your mind, at least temporarily. “I thought I saw my ex,” you mumbled into his jacket.

Bucky hummed knowingly, his arms encircling you and pulling you even closer. “It’s not him, doll. You know I’d never let him anywhere near you. He’s never coming back. He can’t hurt you ever again.” He kissed your forehead, and you felt that warmth again, spreading from your chest and outward, bringing you back to your normal temperature. “You’re safe now. You’re strong.” He pulled back and tipped your chin up with his fingers. “OK?”

You craned your neck to kiss him, and the touch of his lips against yours had you burning even warmer than before. He slowly tilted your head back, deepening the kiss, and as it grew more fervent, you reluctantly pulled away. “We should probably stop before I flame up, Buck,” you murmured.

“Got it. Let’s go home.”


End file.
